


Leonard H. McCoy's Guide to Surviving on a Starship

by facelesshellion



Series: Guides, Tips and Tricks, and Quick Definitions [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Crew as Family, Epic Friendship, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Male Friendship, Post-Movie(s), Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 09:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facelesshellion/pseuds/facelesshellion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living on a starship where the crew lives in each other's pockets strains Bones and Jim's connection. Learning about parallel universes and facing galaxy-sized problems might be their undoing. </p><p>Or: How Bones learns to accept that Jim could never be just his best friend and that might not be the worst thing to happen to them on their five year journey. </p><p>(It still ranks in the top ten, however.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. PNP: Post-Narada Problems

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello hello everybody! Welcome to the second large part of the Guides, Tips and Tricks, and Quick Definitions verse! I hope to see some familiar faces hanging out in the crowd. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone that's been keeping up with me! Whether it's through just reading, or adding kudos or bookmarks or comments, my day is a gazillion times more awesome than it would be without your support. You guys are the best and why I keep posting so I hope that you're as excited to read this as I've been writing it. As always, feel free to drop some criticism if you notice any discontinuities or issues that I missed, and any advice is forever welcome. I know this chapter's a lot of dialogue, and I swear it'll be more plotty and actual substance in the upcoming one. This was more or less a transition one to set the stage overall and I hope that doesn't turn anyone away. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Jim is still sitting in the captain’s chair. 

Almost eighteen hours after his victory, Jim is still sitting in the captain’s chair, and Bones has yet to see him in sickbay.

He could scream. That’s usually the course of action he decides on when Jim ignores his own health. Sometimes screaming means Jim pays attention and remembers for the next time. 

He could drag him out without a word, let him bitch and moan until he exhausts himself. It’d be the easiest route.

(Jocelyn’s voice echoes in his ear, yelling, “The hypocrisy is strong in this one!”) 

Tiredly, he leans against the turbolift doors to address a superior officer, not his friend. 

“Captain,” He calls. “Any chance you can let someone cover this shift? I can smell your broken ribs a mile away and they’re starting to stink.” 

Jim, eyes dark and skin sallow, takes a moment to respond. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably for the best. Mr. Spock, I’ll leave the ship in your capable hands.” 

(He worries about the extreme hoarse quality of his voice. If it’s from exhaustion, that’s fine, but if it’s from that green-blooded prick’s chokehold, that might be more difficult to fix when the damage has been unattended for so long.) 

Jim pries himself out of his chair, jaw clenching when he has to stand. 

Bones pointedly refrains from offering an arm to lean into until the turbolift closes behind them. 

“How’s Pike?” Jim asks hesitantly as he lets his head fall onto Bones’ shoulder. Bones holds all of Jim’s weight and feels inordinately thrilled that he’s heavier than he used to be. Knowing that Jim hasn’t regressed to his hoarding habits pleases him. 

“Currently he’s stable but in a medicated coma. Spinal damage takes weeks to repair and it’s best he isn’t awake for it. We will need to wait until he’s awake and coherent before we know how much the damage has affected him.” 

Even though he knows sugarcoating the facts would have considerably angered Jim, he hates the devastated look that passes over the usually bright face. 

“So he’s definitely going to need a ton of physical therapy?” 

“Jimmy, I don’t know if he’s going to walk again. It’s a fifty-fifty chance.” 

“No, he’ll have to be able to walk. He’s going to captain the Enterprise.” 

The surety that colors Jim’s tone worries him. 

“You’re going to need to accept the possibility that he won’t be able to.” He murmurs, almost picking him up to exit the lift. An empty examination area is, thankfully, only a six or seven step journey to the left. 

“No. No, he’ll be fine. Chris won’t forget how to walk.” 

Bones helps him onto the biobed. Grabbing his legs and swiping them onto the table properly, he keeps his voice low. “That’s not how it works.” 

“Jesus Christ Bones, he’s going to be fine, alright?” He snaps, slumping against the back of the bed. “If not for himself, then for me, because I can’t fucking deal with him not being okay when I have to get a ship full of people home without a fucking warp core!” 

Bones shuts the door and leans his back against it, arms crossed as he watches Jim breathe heavily. 

“I didn’t say he wouldn’t be okay. But recovery’s going to be difficult if possible at all, and you need to understand that he’s going to need support. Specifically, your support.” 

“Don’t talk to me like I’m your patient’s distressed wife that needs to be placated from her hysteria.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You are.” 

“I’m really not.” 

“Screw you.” 

“Tell me what the actual problem is and I’ll think about it.” 

(The quiet banter, worn and tattered by how often they’ve used it, comforts both of them to some degree. Bones has had his doubts that Jim could still be Jim after the horrors they’ve faced today.) 

Jim curls his knees into his chest. “Bones, how the fuck did I go from being a stowaway to fucking acting captain?” 

“By being the smartest son of bitch on this death trap.” 

“Seriously, how could Chris think making me first officer was a good decision? I wasn’t even supposed to be here!” 

“Because Chris knows you and wouldn’t trust his crew with anyone else.” 

“Bones!” 

“Only you would get more offended when I’m telling you nice truths than when I’m insulting you.” 

“I’m being serious! People died, an entire planet imploded, and how could he think that I could be responsible enough to make the right choices-?” 

“You stopped Nero, didn’t you?” 

“That’s not the point!” 

“You did the best that anyone could have in a situation that no one should have ever had to deal with.” 

“Anyone could have done better-“ 

“That’s not true and you know it. You’re delirious from exhaustion and pain, so I’ll let you being a bitchy child slide this one time, got it?” 

Bones slams a hypo against Jim’s neck before he can respond. 

Jim slips into sleep before he pulls the empty container away. 

(They agreed long ago that Bones, when Jim’s health declines, has full control over the situation. If he thinks it’ll be easier or better for Jim to be unconscious during the proceedings, then Jim will be unconscious during the proceedings. 

He never felt as humbled as he did when Jim smiled and said, “I trust you to know what’s best for me, Bonesy.”) 

Fixing Jim’s injuries, a relatively simple task compared to the in-depth surgery that he performed for Chris, takes a longer time than it should. 

Partly because Jim’s ridiculous immune system rejects half of the treatments the unprepared ship carries and partly because this is the first time he has had time to make sure Jim is okay since the entire mess started. 

(He tries not to think of how not-okay they all would have been if he hadn’t dragged Jim on-board illegally. He tries not to think of how one personal decision decided the fate of galaxies and he tries not to think how he now has tangible proof that their codependence is a good thing and fuck Gaila for thinking they needed other people and fuck Gary Mitchell for almost ruining Jim’s faith in him-) 

He has to sit down for a couple of minutes after he finishes to stare at Jim’s lax face before he can make his legs move to go back to work. 

Before going to deal with another disaster, he grabs Chapel’s arm and hisses, “Keep an eye on Jim. I don’t have half of the non-allergenic supplies I need to fix some of his breaks and I don’t want him moving and puncturing any organs.” 

She nods. “Understood. And Doctor McCoy?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Don’t touch me.” 

He releases her quickly. “Sorry.” 

“It’s been a stressful day. No harm no foul.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind from now on. Excuse me.” 

(Chapel, supposedly, is the best nurse in Starfleet. In any other situation, he’d be pretty excited to be working with her. For Jim, though, he puts aside the borderline hero-worship he has for her rumored intelligence and reassures himself that Jim has the best care when he’s not available.) 

* * * * * 

The trek back to Earth takes two weeks. The Enterprise requires multiple pit stops to get supplies for repairs. They transport patients with the worst injuries to bases and other ships for better treatment. 

Bones fights to get Jim to beam down to a base for his own treatment. 

“You’re in pain and allergic to every painkiller on the vessel,” He ticked off the points on each finger. “You have bruises on organs that I could fix with the right hypo but again, you’re fucking allergic to everything with your special snowflake DNA, you’re in extreme pain, and, oh yeah, I can’t use an osteoregenerator on half of your body without being brought up on charges of medical abuse because again, you’re allergic to every goddamn painkiller I have with me!” 

“It’s fine,” Jim tried to soothe. “It’s not that bad Bones. You’re exaggerating. People centuries ago survived this shit without hypos and I can do it too. I can’t leave the ship now, not when we’re in the home stretch.” 

The arguments remain ongoing, pausing when one of them gets a comm calling them to their various duties. 

In those two weeks, Bones learns a few things. 

The first being that he actually loves the excitement and responsibility that comes with being on a starship. 

Knowing that a ship can take as huge of a beating as the Enterprise did helps quell his lingering unease about space. It feels like some wire in his brain untangled itself and now he can look at the stars, seemingly inches away from his face, and feel awe instead of terror. 

Constantly running around gives him purpose that the hospital on Earth didn’t. On Earth, there were fifty-some other doctors that could cover for him. He wasn’t necessary there. 

On the Enterprise, the variety of life and injuries and illnesses means that not only does he have the challenge of his life on his hands, but that at least three-quarters of the doctors on Earth wouldn’t be able to handle the sheer diversity he deals with every day. 

It’s a rush that Bones never wants to give up. 

The second being that if the crew gossips this much in two weeks, he shudders at the drama that would occur over the course of a five year tour. 

“I hear that Kirk’s bridge crew is having issues,” An engineer with a broken wrist grins to his buddies on the beds closet to his. Bones sets up the osteoregenerator quickly, setting it aside as he gives the engineer a hypo for mild pain relief. “Apparently Lieutenant Uhura doesn’t take kindly to him ‘emotionally compromising’ her boyfriend. She’s been giving him hell, and the ensigns there follow her lead.” 

“Oh shut up,” A blonde yeoman groans on the bed to his right. “Kirk’s doing fine. I’ve gone up there to get some PADDs signed and they’re all working together smoothly. Kirk and Uhura have always been tense. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen them around campus, bitching at each other. Instead of repeating shit you hear from idiots, why don’t you pay attention, Trevor? Or is that beyond your higher level thinking?” 

The collective, “Ooooh” from their buddies makes Trevor flush red. 

“You’re cold, Rand.” 

“You know me, brutally honest and cute to boot.” 

Bones makes a note to tell Jim about Rand. He could use a yeoman that doesn’t mince words. 

The third thing Bones learns becomes apparent three days before the science department predicted the Enterprise would reach Earth. 

He might not mind being up in space anymore, but his newfound acceptance of non-solid ground would be easier to keep if the bridge crew wasn’t a group of wet-behind-the-ears kids. 

For God’s sake, the navigator is seventeen, Spock, in Vulcan years, is essentially a moody teenager, Uhura has a petty streak that could rival any preteen, Sulu’s self-preservation instincts shut off the second he can do anything remotely dangerous, and even Scotty gets distracted by the nearest shiny object. 

Bones slides onto the bridge at least once every shift. For the most part, they tend to get along. 

Until Jim has to correct one of them. 

(Bless the kid’s heart, he tries to do it gently, but Jim has never been the best at gentle. He can either say nothing or everything with very little deviation.) 

Had Pike been the one in the chair explaining that the math was wrong, please fix it before we crash, Sulu would have fixed it without question. 

Had Pike been the one in the chair saying that the frequency Uhura usually uses for bases won’t get through to the old star base they’re approaching, Uhura would have found a way to fix it before she even tried. 

Needless to say, having a captain who’s the same age as his bridge crew with less experience than at least a couple of them causes some tension. 

(“We’ve been out this way before, Captain. I have calculated the route three times. It’s fine.” 

“Have you taken the fact that we don’t have a warp core into consideration?” 

“Of course I have. We’re running on impulse, it’s not that big of a change.” 

“How much lighter is the ship then, Mr. Sulu? And how does that affect our velocity? I’m assuming just enough to make sure we clip the top of Jupiter on the way home.” 

“That… would probably be right.”

“That’s what I thought. Fix it.”) 

(“They won’t hear you, Lieutenant.” 

“Captain, I’ve used this frequency for every base between Earth and Andromeda. There is no reason why it shouldn’t work.” 

“You can try all you want, but you won’t get a response. The base is the oldest one in this sector. It will not work. Their technology is incapable of picking it up.”

“It’ll be fine.” 

“Hm, yes, how long ago did you send that? And how many answers have we received? Please, enlighten me, Lieutenant Uhura.” 

“None, sir.” 

“Try a different frequency.”) 

The worst part might be that Jim doesn’t blame them. 

“If I had a snot-nosed brat trying to tell me what to do, I’d be pissed too. Especially over just dumb small mistakes that they beat themselves up about later,” He tells Bones over their shared dessert. They fight for the last bit of piecrust, forks clanging. Their table sits by itself in a corner, away from the general populace of the ship. “I haven’t proven myself. No credibility, you know? How are they supposed to know that I didn’t just slide by? They can’t know that I have an idea of what I’m doing. As far as they know, I’m a sneaky kid that got lucky.” 

“Wouldn’t kill ‘em to trust Pike not to put an idiot in as first officer,” Bones mutters, ceding defeat as Jim pops the last bite into his mouth. 

“He called from starbase 52, by the way. Says they still won’t let him try to get out of bed and he regrets saying that you were a mother hen when there are people like Zenan nurses.” 

He smirks. “It’ll be good for him. Zenan nurses invented character building.” 

“Yes, because Christopher Pike most definitely needs a crash course in character.” Jim rolls his eyes. “I better head down to engineering before Scotty blows us up. Well-intentioned as an explosion may be, I’d like us to be in one piece when we arrive.” 

He scampers away before Bones can shove their plates and trash into his arms. 

(Most of the time Bones feels more like a married couple when he’s with Jim than he ever did with Jocelyn. 

Stupid brat didn’t even buy him a ring.) 

* * * * * 

He knows, rationally, that Jim can handle himself. In less than ten hours, the Enterprise will be back on Earth and they’ll have to deal with reporters galore, and he knows that the bridge crew’s respect issues won’t be a problem until they have a new captain on their actual tour of duty. 

That doesn’t stop him from staging a minor wake up call. 

“Jim! Just the kid I’m looking for. We’re having some technical malfunctions with the biobeds, and engineering’s busy keeping us moving.” 

Jim blinks at the vid screen. “Uh, I can’t really leave the bridge right now Bones. We’re too close to the border for me to feel comfortable not being here.” 

“Then walk me through fixing them. It’ll just take a couple minutes. Unless you’d rather have all my patients filing complaints about the constant alarms going off…?” 

“You drive a tough bargain, Bonesy. Show me your broken toys and we’ll see what I can do.” 

Bones grins. 

For the next half hour, Jim groans and corrects Bones’ abysmal “fixes”. Bones, in return, goads Jim into a show for the bridge. 

“You can’t put those wires together- Just stop, god, this is as disastrous as trying to help Gaila pass Golding’s math final-“ 

“The hell does your math tutoring have to do with this? I’m a doctor, not an engineer!” 

“Yes, I can tell.” 

“Screw you-“ 

“If you let that hypo empty into that chamber we’re all getting blown up so PLEASE move that tray away before you knock it over-“ 

“Quit whining, it’s fine-“ 

“No it’s not, it’ll react with the biobed’s liquid fuel cell- BONES I SWEAR TO GOD MOVE IT NOW-“ 

“Fine! It’s moved Jim, happy?” 

“Extremely so! Your gangly elbows nearly killed us all!” 

“At least I’m not the one that… What was it Jim? What was the thing in our bathtub that nearly gave us both radiation poisoning?” 

“We agreed not to talk about that.” 

“That’s right! It was an oven powered by a mini warp core. Almost completely functional except for the one minor detail-“ 

“It was revolutionary, Bones!” 

“Yeah, revolutionary in the fact that hey, if you cook food near a warp core, you may get cancer because there’s no seal between the separate areas!” 

“You’re just mad because it was fried chicken night.” 

“Damn straight I was. Instead of eating dinner I had to take your skinny ass to the ER, where the only real problem was that you had enough pot-” 

“Stop hammering at the bed like that, you’re going to ruin the casing.” 

“Don’t change the subject, kid.” 

He hangs up later, satisfied with the impressed, shocked gazes from everyone watching the spectacle. 

Jim doesn’t need Bones’ help managing his crew, but it doesn’t hurt for him to ease the kid’s stress a bit. 

It’s a doctor’s prerogative to ensure his/her patients’ health. Jim’s too young to be getting gray hairs from insubordinates acting out of line anyway. Any doctor would be concerned.


	2. Jealousy and Its Grasp on the Weakened Male Psyche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bones gets laid. It might have been one of his worst decisions. He'd be able to find out for sure if Jim would give him the time of day. 
> 
> Jim's shifty, but Bones can't call him out on it because he might have just ignored every ethics class ever taken and invaded his privacy. 
> 
> He also really, really hates Spock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally cranked this chapter out! Wasn't easy, I have to admit. This is all transition crap before we get to the REALLY good plot stuff, so hold on for that. Not that I didn't have fun writing this chapter: This was fun to write and I even downloaded it to my phone so I could work on it when I couldn't sleep and my laptop was too far away. 
> 
> (When I work to overcome my laziness even a bit, you know I'm having a good time.) 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for reading, commenting, kudosing, bookmarking, etc. You keep me going! Thank you thank you thank you! I hope you all enjoy. 
> 
> As always, feel free to comment with criticisms or errors I made so I can continue making this as fun for you guys as it is for me. 
> 
> Thanks again!

The next months pass in a blur. 

The bridge crew transports off of the Enterprise straight into a mob of reporters, and thus ends any concept of privacy. 

Everyone’s tense by the time they arrive at headquarters, and even Bones needs to blow off some steam by the time they stop harassing them for debriefing. 

Jim, awkward with reporters, facing a trial for academic dishonesty still, and needing a private debriefing with the admiralty, encourages Bones to go home. 

“I’m going to be here for awhile, and the bags under your eyes have their own luggage and seem like they’re here to stay,” He gives Bones a one-armed hug. “Go sleep. I’ll be fine.” 

Under normal circumstances, Bones would ignore him and stay. 

But the world almost ended, and the only thing he could think of that he regretted was the fact that he hasn’t had sex for years. 

(He knows it sounds dumb. 

He sounds like a sex-obsessed douchebag, but he’d prefer to die with at least one memory of a good lay that isn’t Jocelyn. Since he has bad, good, great, and really fucking awesome memories with Jim, the only thing missing in his life is some good sex. 

The Narada Incident, as it’s being called, serves as a wake up call to his shriveled libido.) 

He sleeps until 2100, goes to a bar, and steals a line or two from Jim’s repertoire to take a nice, petite woman home. 

(Funnily enough, she’s the exact opposite of Jocelyn.)

It’s fine. 

Not spectacular, but not horrible. 

She stays the night, and Bones spends the first half of it wide-awake on the edge of his side. He dodges her grabby arms by making a break for the bathroom seconds before she falls asleep. 

Getting back to sleep poses more of an issue than he’d like when he returns and Sally-Susan-Mary-Something is sprawled across the entirety of the bed. He almost goes to sleep on the couch. 

Bones wakes up, groggy and disgruntled, to Jim awkwardly standing in the kitchen, a half eaten bowl of cereal in one hand and the other holding a PADD out to him. He swallows his mouthful quickly.

“Your, er, female friend wanted to leave you a note,” He mumbles. Milk dribbles out of the left corner of his mouth. “Said she had a meeting or something, I don’t know.” 

“Why aren’t you sitting? You’re going to get cereal all over you, come here-“ Bones reaches out a hand to wipe his mouth, but Jim darts out of the way and the bowl falls into the sink with a clang. 

He shoves the PADD into Bones’ hands and mutters, “I have to go.” 

Half blind with sleep, Bones stares as Jim sprints from the room. His cadet reds were rumpled and unbuttoned and almost caught on the door as it slid shut immediately behind him. 

(This is one of many moments where Bones knows he screwed up but fuck if he knows what he did wrong.) 

Bitter from his regret and Jim’s strange behavior, he treats himself to an extra mug of coffee before his next shift. 

(He never does read her message.) 

Weeks pass. Bones sees Jim occasionally, but they’re both busy, and Jim continues to act strangely. 

He falls into the spotlight like it’s his birthright. He struts confidently, talks naturally, and somehow he smoothly directs attention away from him and onto the severity of the situation and how it’ll change Starfleet policy. 

He becomes the poster boy for the “New Vulcan” donation fund. He helps out at rallies and has commercials about the dangers of xenophobia, he meets with the admiralty to discuss less invasive explorations and more emphasis on discovery, he runs from class to class to officially graduate- 

(Bones hates every bit of the falsity in Jim’s movements. It makes him want to scratch his own eyes out just so he doesn’t have to see Jim faking everything day in and day out.) 

Before Narada, Jim stretched himself too thin. He’d overbook himself to the verge of collapse, and Bones would have to be the one calling and rescheduling for him so he wouldn’t miss finals or kill himself from the stress. 

Now, he has all of the tasks from before and three times as many new ones, and Bones found himself stealing a tiny biosensor and debated whether he should openly demand that Jim accept the damned thing or just sneak it on and not give him the chance to refuse so Bones won’t be worrying about him having a stroke. 

He had originally decided to inform Jim, but seeing as Jim refused to stay home for longer than five minutes and seemed to have mysteriously misplaced all of Bones’ messages, Bones has been forced to catch him during the only time he sees Jim anymore. 

Jim stumbles in on a Wednesday night at 0400, and Bones slams a hypo into his neck before he takes three steps. 

He shrieks. Loudly. 

“Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck-?” 

Bones snorts and flicks the lights on. “If you hadn’t been avoiding me I would have warned you ahead of time.” 

“What is wrong with you?” Jim stares at him, horrifying amazed. “This can’t be ethical. I didn’t agree to whatever you just shot me up with. Nor did I agree to being assaulted as I walk into my own home.” 

“Suck it up, it’s just vitamins and a slight sedative-“ 

“Sedative? Bones! I have a hundred things to do before tomorrow-“ 

“And they’ll all still be there tomorrow for you to do! You’re exhausted and you need to take a break!” 

“Fuck off, I can handle myself-“ 

Bones snapped his fingers. “That’s it, isn’t it? Couldn’t get it until you were right in front of me, but I got it now” 

Jim’s face shuts off. “Got what?” 

“Now that you’re a big important captain, you don’t want to deal with lil’ ole me-“ 

“Oh knock it off. You’re not a needy southern belle even though you like to act like one.” 

Bones fans his face, saying in a choked wail, “Woe is me! My best friend doesn’t like me anymore because I’m not cool enough for him. Not like that handsome, suave, Mr. Spock fella-“ 

“Fuck off!” 

Bones laughs when Jim tackles him to the ground. “I knew it! I’ve been waiting weeks to call you out on it! Jimmy has a crush-!” 

“You’re such a prick!” 

Bones flips Jim over so he’s pinning him, howling with laughter. “You like him! You gonna tell him he makes your pulse run wild? Gonna buy him some floooowers? I’ll help you with a sonnet, I bet Vulcans like that ancient bullshit.” 

“Shut up! That’s not it at all!” 

Jim’s face, bright red, can’t contain a mixture between a scowl and laugh. 

“Don’t lie to me, Jimbo. I’ve seen you following him around, trying to impress him with the Vulcan fundraisers. It’s cute, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you with the glow of love-“ 

“It’s not-“ He’s laughing now too, and Bones lets his shoulders relax. “Bones, it’s really not like that.” 

“You’re saying you’re not madly infatuated with your temporary first officer? I don’t buy it.” 

“I’m not!” 

“Your mouth says no but your vehemence says ‘Mr. Spock, take me now-‘” 

“I hate you so much. I don’t even have words for it.” 

Bones rolls off and lies down next to Jim, grinning. “So what is it then? Because you are following him around like a lost puppy-dog hoping for a bone.” 

When Jim doesn’t answer immediately, Bones props himself up on an elbow. 

“You can’t tell anyone,” He blurts suddenly. “Really. You can’t. The admiralty would murder me and the universe would implode and it’s so very much not good if anyone finds out, okay?” 

“Who the hell would I tell?” Bones stares blankly. 

(That will need to be looked into further. Jim’s never said that because there’s a mutual understanding that there’s not really anyone else either one would trust with anything the other said to them. 

Bones doesn’t even tell people what Jim’s favorite color is.) 

“Dude, whatever, just listen- Listen, sit back, this is a big one and mostly the reason why I’m doing so much anti-xenophobia shit- Don’t give me that look I know you’ve downloaded every single commercial I’ve been dragged into doing. Your password needs updating, by the by. 

“So the Romulans? Yeah, no, not really Romulans. Or I mean, they are, but not OUR Romulans. They’re from a parallel universe.” 

“If you’re just going to screw with me then I will send Spock flowers with your signature on them-“ 

“I’m not screwing around. Jesus Christ Bones, just listen for a sec, would you? 

“So not our Romulans, but from a parallel universe because in said parallel universe an older version of Spock couldn’t save Romulus from exploding and the parallel universe Romulans were pissed so they attacked Ambassador Spock (the old one, keep up Bones!) and they all went through a black hole and came out here and the Romulans attacked Vulcan to get back at Ambassador Spock.” 

Bones lies down. 

“Real bizarre mess, you know? So when our Spock shot me over to Delta Vega, that’s where I met Ambassador Spock. And he used a mind meld on me to explain all of that shit. 

“And, well, there was a lot of layover with the mind meld. I got a lot of his memories and he got a lot of mine that weren’t really part of the immediate situation. I’ve been sorting through them, and it’s really weird, because Ambassador Spock and the other James Kirk were really fucking close. Like, fucking close.” 

“You mean like fucking?” 

“Not really? It’s confusing. The closest definition that my mind could make for the Vulcan word was ‘brother-friend-lover.’” 

“You’re shitting me.” 

“Nuh-uh. I guess it’s not as incestuous as it sounds to us, but fuck if I know. All I do know is it was the ‘I will blow up buildings and ships to save you and sacrifice everything for you’ kind of love. And some of that sorta leaked over.” 

“What do you mean ‘leaked over’?” Bones shoots up, alarmed. “Where’s my tricorder? Did the mind meld mess with your head?” 

“Sit down, that’s not what I mean.” 

“Then what do you mean?” 

Jim shrugs. Inexplicably, he blushes. “Like, I know that I’m not in love with Spock. He might have been other-James-Kirk’s type, but I don’t feel like that now and I don’t know if I ever will for sure because we’re completely different. 

“But Ambassador Spock is really great, and if our Spock can grow up to be like that, he’d be amazing. And maybe I would feel like that some day, but maybe not too. 

“He said that mine and Spock’s friendship is one to ‘define us both.’ Like it’s life-or-death, do-or-die friendship.” 

Bones rubs a hand over his face. “Do you want to have that kind of friendship with Spock?” 

Jim ducks his head and shrugs once more. 

“Come on. You’ve obviously thought about this a lot.” 

“Kind of. I mean… You should have felt how Ambassador Spock felt about just seeing me, and I’m not even the guy he made friends with. It was amazing. It’d be nice to know that someone felt like that for me all the time and be absolutely certain.

“I’d like a relationship where everything would be reciprocated and we’d be each other’s everything forever.” 

(Bones has hated people just as much as the next guy. 

Hearing Jim say all of this sets red film across his eyes because that should be their friendship, not Jim with a coldblooded heartless bastard, not when Jim has so much warmth himself- 

He thinks that Spock may be the person he hates the most, but fuck if he knows which one to hate more.) 

Bones tosses an arm around Jim’s shoulders. “If you want it, go for it. Just do me a favor and remember that you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink.” 

“Great, a metaphor. Your advice always makes me feel all tingly, Bonesy.” Jim deadpans. The lines around his eyes tighten.

The silence after that, for perhaps the first time since they became friends, is stifling. 

Jim suddenly sits up and dashes to his room. The door locks shut behind him. 

(Bones is too hurt to wonder what he did wrong now.) 

For days, neither speaks to the other. 

Bones has to turn around whenever he sees Spock on campus because he actually fears punching the icy face, which isn’t exactly polite to do to a man who just lost his entire planet and hasn’t done anything yet to deserve it. 

He obsessively guards the program on his PADD that allows him to watch Jim’s vitals. 

(He obsessively watches Jim’s vitals too, and he makes extra food when his blood sugar is low and leaves a plate out for him that is always gone the next morning, and he leaves the TV on something mind numbing when his blood pressure spikes and he needs to relax-) 

And then Pike returns, declines captaincy of the Enterprise, nominates Jim to replace him, and kicks the universe into order. 

Jim sprints into the living room around 1600 when the announcement is made. Bones, in between shifts, had been watching the story unfold while working on paperwork. 

"I can't- Bones, what the hell is wrong with them?" He blurts, pacing in front of the television. "I'm not- I have more misdemeanors than years on my record for god's sake! I'm a juvenile delinquent that got lucky and they're handing me the goddamn flagship! I can't do this! I can't even handle myself let alone a crew of five hundred some members!

"Bones I can't do this I'm a fucking freak I wasn't even good enough for Kodos-!" 

"Whoa, Jimmy," Bones' PADD smacks the ground. He darts up and grabs Jim's shoulders to halt the increasingly frenzied paces wearing a trench into their living room floor. "That's enough of that. I need you to take deep breaths for me kiddo, okay? Follow mine, here-" He presses both of their hands over his breast and slows his own breathing to demonstrate. 

Jim's desperate gasps turn into deep gulps. His watery blue eyes pin Bones to the spot, and he makes nonsense sounds to fill the silence. He traces circles on top of the hand against his chest, while the other ones tugs Jim closer so their foreheads can touch. 

"We'll figure it out together, okay? Everything will be fine if we stick together. You and me against the universe, just like we were planning. A little more responsibility than we assumed, but if anyone can do it, it's us." 

"Yeah, if we stick together we'll be just fine. At least until your girlfriend needs you, right?" Jim snarls. 

He pulls back and Bones pulls him closer. 

"What the hell are you talking about? I don't have a girlfriend." 

"Yeah, right. You're full of it. So the brown haired cadet you fucked here was just asking for some tutoring then?" 

Bones couldn't stop the incredulity. "You mean the one-night stand I had weeks ago? Christ, that's what this is about? Listen up, Jim, 'cause I'm only saying this once: I'm not dating her. I don't even remember her fucking name. Next time instead of sulking and being all moody come ask me.” 

Jim snorts. His eyes dart away from Bones. 

Bones frowns. 

“It's not like you haven't been with girls before. You’ve had more people in your bed than I’ve seen at the academy. What's the big deal?" 

“Not in my bed!” 

(He prays to the God he renounced years ago for patience.) 

“Tell me why that matters, please.”

"You brought her here!" Jim snapped, obstinately glaring at the wall. "This is our home! You don't bring one-night stands home! You don't bring people that don't matter home! Home is where you keep the most important people safe!"

(It hits him then that this was probably one of the bizarre cultural practices Jim picked up on Tarsus. 

Sometimes Jim has skewed views from Kodos' teachings that stuck with him through the years and Bones wishes someone would invent a program that could give him a list of these so he could compromise with Jim before situations like this happen.

The poor kid thinks that these things are common sense, but in everywhere in the galaxy that isn't Tarsus IV, they're just a step off from everyone else. 

It’s never strange enough that other people notice, but it’s enough to leave Jim floundering and reverting to bullshit responses he’s seen on holovids throughout the years. Mostly to save face, but also to hide his confusion and hurt.) 

"No, that's not-I didn't know that's how you felt about it. That's not how I was taught home was." 

Bones clenches his eyes shut when he hears Jim sniffle. 

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know that would hurt you. I wouldn't have even done anything with her if I thought it would upset you this much." 

Jim's hand clenches the fabric around Bones' heart. 

"Come on, say you forgive me." Bones sing-songs into his ear. "You're my number one sweetheart. I promise." 

"Shut up."

“I mean it. See? This has always been yours, dumb ass.” He taps a finger against Jim’s clenched hand. “Do I need to serenade you for you to get it? I play a mean recorder.” 

“You’re such a liar.” 

“You don’t believe me? I’ll show you. I have the dinky plastic recorder I got in third grade back in Georgia in a store container. We’ll go back there for Christmas and I’ll prove it. You’ll swoon at my rendition of Hot Cross Buns.” 

Jim laughs, helplessly, and Bones presses a kiss into his hair. 

“We’ll get through this like champions, Jimmy. Space was made just for you. For you to discover and explore and protect. Leading a crew? That’s nothing. You could have done that when you were cruising around small towns and drunk as a skunk.

“The universe can’t wait to get you up there. So stop being an idiot, thank Pike for the recommendation; sign me up for CMO so you won’t die within five minutes, and bask in the fact that I’ll be forced to call you ‘Captain’ when we take off.” 

“Me and you versus the universe?” 

“You’re a damn fool if you think I’d have it any other way.” 

(The rest of the night, Bones forgets about Spock and Spock. He forgets about work and responsibilities. He forgets about the biosensor and the danger that being a captain brings. 

He celebrates with Jim, happily bantering and (God help him) cuddling to reaffirm their whatever-it-is. 

They have to talk before the Enterprise flies. Too many issues left unsaid, too many misunderstandings and unclear feelings that they have avoided because when it was just the two of them it didn’t matter- 

But, Bones rationalizes, Jim just made captain. 

If they can’t celebrate their highs, then they won’t be able to survive their lows.)


	3. Dr. Leonard "Heterosexual-Horatio" McCoy Finally Reaches his Affectionate Limit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Bones succeeds in addressing the underlying problem but Jim reacts the one way that Bones never wanted him to. 
> 
> In one sentence: Jesus fucking Christ too far, Jim, too far-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! This took awhile, I apologize, and I skipped editing (GASP don't do that I am not an example to follow my dear friends I'm just busy I'm afraid) so it isn't my best work, but I covered everything I wanted to so I hope it'll make up for the piss-poor writing. 
> 
> As always, feel free to message me with any mistakes I didn't catch. That's especially important this chapter because I KNOW there are things wrong with it since I rushed a bit. 
> 
> Thanks to those that commented, gave this fic kudos, bookmarked, etc. You guys rock! 
> 
> NOW EVERYONE READ THIS: Before you read the chapter, keep in mind that they are never going to have sex in this verse. Ever. Really. 
> 
> HOWEVER: That doesn't mean that I won't toe the romance line or never make their relationship somewhat romantic, but if I do, they never mean it to be sexual or leading to sexual advances. It'll all be explained more in future chapters. I apologize to the one person who commented about their relationship to which I said I wouldn't make their relationship romantic (I'm sorry, I can't find the comment now but I remember saying this); I was still sort of experimenting with them when I said that, and I've made a couple of decisions now that I've read over this a couple of times. I've decided to take a new approach/route here now that I have a better idea of what I want from this story and what I've already written, and I hope this doesn't disappoint you too much. I'm more or less still experimenting and this might change again! I just wanted to give people fair warning. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Sorry for the long note, hope I didn't bore too many people away.

They don’t really have the conversation they need to have. Or, at least, the entirety of it. 

(Jim is so happy though, and now that they’ve fixed the major issue, he drags Bones around to fulfill even the dumbest of tasks to ensure the Enterprise’s safe revival. 

He smiles more than Bones can ever remember and half of his smiles scream of falsity for the press but the other half have more heart than the kid has to spare. 

He couldn’t bear to bring it up before he did, and once he did- 

Well, that’s another issue entirely that he still has yet to figure out how to deal with. 

Fuck. 

He screwed up, he knows that, somewhere along the line he fucked things up and now Jim’s confused and he’s confused and he needs to figure it out- 

Fuck.)

* * * * * * *  
Before he can blink, the Enterprise is scheduled for its first departure in a week and he has finalized his own roster. 

Hypothetically, when he finishes, it should go to the first officer. 

Instead, because of Jim’s sentimentality that both sickens and inspires him, he has to give it to Jim with only the minimal amount of bitching because the fool keeps hoping Spock will change his mind. 

(It took weeks, but he can finally think the half Vulcan’s name without flying off the handle. If he can bring himself to say it out loud by the time they take off, maybe he can survive five years with the bastard. 

He’s not dumb. If Jim thinks Spock will change his mind, he will. Jim reads people like children’s books and can almost always predict their behavior if he is detached enough and not afraid of the outcome. 

With Spock, he likes him and has his strange mind-meld-induced-friendship crush, but he knows Spock doesn’t have enough attachment to the situation (aka: Jim Kirk) to react outside of his behavioral patterns. 

Jim explained it to Bones on the way to their regular lunch area. “His planet was destroyed, his family was decimated, and he’s still a scientist. He’s too human to want to go back to Vulcan society, even as weak as it now is, and since he’s a hybrid he can’t breed which would be the only ‘logical’ reason to remain on New Vulcan. He’ll feel guilty about it, to a point, but he’ll make the best decision for him, which is to be on the Enterprise. It’s where he can research to his heart’s content and also help the rest of the Federation, which will, in his mind, make up for him abandoning his species.” 

He’d be skeptical, but Jim has used the same methods to figure out which professor had knocked up one of their fellow cadets last year, so he’s willing to bet that Jim’s spot-on. Which means that he better get used to Spock being around ASAP. A CMO can’t refuse treatment to a crewmember just because he’s irrationally angry with him/her.) 

“Chapel?” Jim’s finger traces the name on the PADD. “She might be hard to get. She’s the best of the best, yeah? I’ll have to ask Pike to put in a good word. You sure you don’t want someone else as your first choice just in case?” 

He crosses his arms. “If we’re going to be exploring the dark corners of the universe, we need Chapel. She’ll be invaluable in the black.” 

“Alright. You say we need her, I’ll do my best.” 

“Not your best. Make it happen. I’m not kidding, Jim,” His voice rises before Jim can interrupt. “She is the only person I would trust to treat you and the other crewmembers if I wasn’t available. We’re going to be seeing new viruses, new bacteria, new everything. She is the smartest, most innovative medical nurse out there. We need her more than the rest of Starfleet combined. I’m very good at what I do, Jim, but if we have Chapel on board with me? There won’t be a biological threat that we can’t handle.” 

Tan fingers tap against his desk. “Okay. I trust your opinion on this. I’ll make it happen. You’ll need to talk to her though so she doesn’t fight the placement if I get it figured out. She has enough sway that she has a say in where she goes. It’ll help if she wants to be on the Enterprise.” 

“Okay.” 

Jim suddenly smirks. “Okay… sir.” 

Bones glares. “Do me a favor and fuck yourself.” 

“Fuck yourself, Captain. Bones, it’s not a hard concept-!” 

He laughs when Bones drags him into a headlock and scrapes his knuckles against his scalp. 

“You’re the biggest brat in the universe, I swear to God-“ 

“Ow ow ow you can stop with the noogies now- Jesus, you’re rough. If I knew you were into that I’d’ve bought those handcuffs, you kinky bastard-“ 

“Darling, I don’t need anything but my hands to make you scream. Handcuffs would be useless.” 

Jim moans obnoxiously. “Ooh, you know just what to say to get me all hot and bothered.” 

They both laugh, Bones releases Jim, and they finish going over the rest of the medical team’s roster. Jim bitches about Bones’ expensive taste in nurses and coworkers. Bones bitches about Jim’s affinity for danger and broken limbs that require him needing expensive taste in nurses and coworkers. 

(Bones counts it as a success. Jim’s stress levels are still generally high and his handy-dandy biosensor indicated the beginning signs of a panic attack when Bones first walked in. By the time he leaves, Jim has calmed down and seems like he can handle the rest of the day. 

He takes more than a small amount of smug satisfaction at his ability to save Jim from himself. Spock sure as hell can’t do that. 

Jocelyn’s voice whispers, “Can’t do that yet, Leonard.”) 

Finding time to talk to Chapel takes longer than Bones hoped. She takes more shifts than Bones, which means she’s on call 24/7 and works 23/6. Even though he sees her while he’s working, he refrains from approaching her. 

Her professionalism is legendary, and he knows she will retreat from joining the Enterprise if he screws up this conversation. 

Luckily, after three days of trying to determine her schedule without invading her privacy 

(Also unprofessional, which is why he couldn’t do it even if he knew how to.) 

they miraculously have shifts that end at the same time and he walks out of the clinic with her. Her blonde hair is tied up in a messy ponytail and his five o’clock shadow is more like twelve o’clock Canadian-man-beard, but as two people that have had more than enough time catching sleep and comfort where they can, they can ignore the unattractive exhaustion that covers them both. 

“I’m putting in a request for you to be my second-in-command on the Enterprise.” 

The bluntness that would have caused others to bristle merely brings her eyes up to his. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Kirk’s pulling some strings to get you there, but it’d be easier if you wanted to be there.” 

“Do I want to be there?” She yawns, a mixture of the aforementioned exhaustion and boredom. “Sounds dangerous.” 

“Probably. More fun than being stuck down here. We’d be in charge of making antidotes for brand new diseases the idiots encounter on new planets. Could probably write some decent papers on most of the shit we’ll see.” 

“That so? That gave me goosebumps, McCoy." Her sarcasm cuts almost as deeply as his does. "Give me some real benefits to look forward to. We get new diseases every day from planet immigrants. I want a one-of-a-kind experience if I’m going to space.” 

He only pauses briefly before saying, “Well, I’m not supposed to know this, but the only Vulcan-human hybrid will be first officer. His biology has never been studied by anyone not a part of the Vulcan science academy. Dr. M’Benga has joined up since he’s the only Vulcan expert that isn’t a Vulcan. I can guarantee he’ll need a competent nurse that knows human biology to work on the hybrid’s brain if something goes wrong up there.” 

“There we go!” She punches the air. “Just what I wanted to hear. Jesus, McCoy, we could’ve saved some oxygen if you just said that first. I’ll put in my transfer first thing tomorrow.” She slaps his back, grinning. 

“Seriously? That much reaction for a bastard like Spock?” 

“He’s the biggest prick I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. But fuck if his, ah, unique biology doesn’t rev me up.” 

Her sigh resembles a teenage girl’s swoon. 

“Commander Spock… Now that’s a one-of-a-kind experience.” 

“He has a girlfriend, you know.” 

“Nah, that won’t last.” 

“Really?” His eyebrow shoots up sardonically.

“Don’t give me that look. Of course it won’t. They’ve been together for how long? At least a year, right? Vulcans bond quickly and for life. If they haven’t tied the Vulcan Boy Scout knot yet, then they never will. I give them a month or two tops once we’re past the Milky Way.” 

“That so?” He slows his pace, curiosity growing. “I would have thought that Vulcans would have the whole Victorian-esque courtship ritual going on.” 

Chapel grins. “You’d think, right? Nope. Most of the xenobiologists theorize that Vulcans are actually some of the most passionate lovers because of their emotional repression. They have to let it out somehow, you know? 

“Imagine Romeo and Juliet infatuation multiplied by ten, and that’s Vulcan romance. Behind doors, of course, but nonetheless, very emotional by human standards, let alone Vulcan ones. Love at first sight—or for them, first mind meld—and borderline unhealthy attachment. I’ll send you the paper I read recently about it. The Vulcan Science Academy tried to keep it hush-hush, which obviously means it was spot-on and they’re ticked about it.” 

She laughs, slaps Bones’ back, and waves good-bye. 

“See you on the Enterprise, McCoy! It’s going to be fascinating.” 

(Bones tries not to wait too anxiously for that paper.) 

Their last night in their apartment is bittersweet. Both Jim and Bones stare at the packed belongings and the empty spaces throughout the course of the evening. 

“You have everything you need, right?” 

“Yes, Bones.” 

“Your epipens and medication are on your carry-on that’ll go up to the bridge with you, yeah?” 

“Yes, Bones.” 

“You packed your dumb hippo-“ 

“Henry isn’t dumb!” 

“You packed him too, yeah?” 

“Yes, I packed Henry and everything else that I need and more. Please stop asking or else I’m going to be paranoid all night that I forgot something.” 

“Toothbrush?” 

Jim freezes. 

“You didn’t use the checklist I made for you, did you?” 

“Shut up.” He stomps to the bathroom as Bones snickers. 

When he returns to shove his dental care products into his bag, Bones pries into the captain part of Jim’s brain.

“You better be right about Spock joining up, because that's the only reason Chapel said yes. Any idea where we’re heading to first tomorrow? Somewhere close enough that if Spock decides later we can pick him up?” 

“Well, we’ll have a couple of milk run ‘missions’ around our own solar system to make sure the ship won’t explode." 

"Think you'll be able to handle that? Sounds boring." 

"You know, I’m actually all right with it. Scotty has made some not-so-much-approved-as-ignored adjustments and while I know the guy’s a genius, he’s still just a guy. You should see some of work though, Bones, because I could forget he's just a guy easily. I’ve been reading up on bits of things he’s published and it’s extraordinary. He's the closest thing to a god, I swear. And he wants to be on the Enterprise! Requested it, even.” 

“Are you surprised?” Bones opens an arm for Jim to curl up under, which he hurriedly does. The couch, that has been the home to countless conversations, will be in storage by tomorrow. “You did essentially save him from life on Delta Vega. I’d want to stick close too if I were him.” 

“He wouldn’t have known I’d be on the Enterprise, though,” Jim tangles his fingers with Bones’. 

“I don’t know,” Bones’ head tilts back, facing the ceiling. He squeeze’s Jim’s hand tightly. “I had more or less assumed you’d be on the Enterprise after all of the bull you went through. Just… Feels like that’s where you’re supposed to be, you know? Maybe Scotty felt that too.” 

He startles when Jim’s grip tightens enough to bruise. 

“Didn’t take you to believe in fate, Bonesy.” 

“I don’t,” He takes his time choosing his next words. “I’m a man of science. Fate’s nothing but an excuse for people to blow off their responsibility. 

“All I meant was that you have no idea how right you looked in the captain’s chair. You fit there. You were a natural, and the admiralty would’ve been idiots if they put anyone else in that chair.” 

Bones pointedly lets that settle for a tense thirty seconds before asking, “Why would me believing in fate bother you, Jimmy?” 

“Because- I just- It feels like I didn’t earn any of this!” He flies forward and Bones falls back. His hands tugging his hair and elbows resting on his knees distract Bones from the bruise Jim’s bony elbow made on his gut. “It feels like I’m getting the Enterprise because that’s what happened in Ambassador Spock’s universe and there’s some sort of cosmic balance that needs to be restored. 

“And the scarier thing is what if it’s not? What if it isn’t fate but they’re actually giving me the Enterprise because they want me to have it? When is it all going to backfire? When will it all disappear or explode and I’ll have to watch it all burn? 

“And! And and and, wait for it…” Jim throws his arms up and points directly at Bones. “You’re encouraging me to go headfirst into all of this and be the big bad captain and make friends with Spock and that just means it’s going to blow up even worse-“ 

“Whoa, I never said make friends with Spock,” Bones cuts in, scowling. “I was trying to be supportive if that was what you wanted, but if that’s a problem, then feel free to cut the bastard out of your life. It’ll let me sleep easier at night.” 

He smirks when Jim abruptly deflates. 

“Well, I mean—Even without that part, it’s still all going to go to shit-“ 

“Let’s stop the defeatist attitude, Jimbo. You’re sounding less like a starship captain and more like an irritating teenager.” 

The couch squeaks as he inches forward to ruffle Jim’s blond hair. 

“You want this, right? You want to be captain and explore the universe, don’t you?” 

“Of course I do.” 

“Then if everything does end up going haywire, you’ll be able to stop it. Fight back if someone tries to take it away. Take what you want instead of waiting for something bad to happen that might not. If it comes to that where the Enterprise is in horrible, grave danger, I’ll be there to help you get past it.” 

He tugs Jim’s head until their foreheads are gently touching. 

“You’re allowed to be happy, Jimmy. Okay?” 

Blue eyes stare into his. 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

He only has Jim’s closed eyes and a tiny gust of warm breath to warn him before Jim leans in. 

(No no no Jim don’t do this to us don’t-) 

Soft lips peck his, just once, before Jim pulls away and nods. 

“Thanks, Bones.” 

(Fuck.)


	4. Dr. Leonard McCoy from the tribe of the Denial-ites meets Charlie Evans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Bones becomes a master in not-tackling-problems-head-on-or-even-at-all, Jim reminisces about his own few exploits at the Academy when Bones was not attached to his hip, and the Enterprise meets their first stranger. 
> 
> A.K.A: The beginning part of my take on AOS Charlie X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, such a long time to update! Very sorry guys! School got crazy, and I just started a new job which takes up my weekends now, so I have very little time to work on personal things. I appreciate the patience and understanding! 
> 
> As usual, thank you for the kudos, comments, and bookmarks! Without you guys I would be screaming into the vast nothingness of the internet for the hell of it and that isn't nearly as fun as screaming into someone else's part of the internet and getting a response. Hope you enjoy!

Bones loves Jim. A lot. 

But he has never, ever looked at him romantically and sexually or anywhere in between. 

They toe the lines between best friends and brothers and boyfriends, but it’s never leaned closer to “boyfriend” then cuddling. 

They both acknowledge their codependency. He previously thought that it was an unsaid truth that neither of them wanted to cross /that/ line. 

/That/ line being the big “XOXO”. The smooch. The hesitant kiss that left him dumbstruck and unable to respond. 

After the brief press of lips-to-lips, Jim had pulled away, parted mouth curving into a tiny smile, and left to prepare for bed. Bones had stayed sitting on the couch before doing the same.

The next morning has too much excitement for them to talk, both grabbing their luggage and a hurried breakfast before sprinting to the Enterprise. 

They part ways with a wave and don’t see each other for the rest of the day. 

He doesn’t avoid Jim. That would be juvenile. Infantile, even. 

(But fuck if he knows how to approach the subject.) 

He catches glimpses of Jim in between hurried preparations for lift off. They each have their own checks to run through, their own lists to complete. 

All day, Jim glows. Practically floating, he high-fives crewmembers, slaps their backs jovially, laughs too loudly at inappropriate times. The members with a couple tours under their belts give him fond, nostalgic grins, thinking back to their own humble beginnings while new, fresh-from-the-academy ones are too caught up in their own anxious excitement to notice their captain’s joy. 

The frantic shuffling through PADDs and ensuring every medical member’s attendance distracts him from his own anxiety and, coincidentally, the “moment.” 

Chapel smirks as she steps into his line of sight, and Bones’ blanches. 

Spock, still listed as Jim’s first officer, has yet to show. 

If Spock doesn’t show, Chapel will bail. 

They’ll be on a starship without a first officer and without a head nurse. 

(Damn it.) 

Once everyone has their place and their individual tasks to start working on for take off, Bones takes his place on the bridge to hopefully determine whether Spock would be cramping the Enterprise’s style or not. 

Other than Spock’s indecision, deciding where Bones would be for the majority of his shifts had been the most arduous task for preparation.

Ships can have one of two medical set ups, and neither would be a perfect fit for the Enterprise. Jim and Bones had talked and debated for days as Captain and CMO respectively before deciding which one the ship would employ. 

The first set up would have Bones primarily in sickbay. A transporter that would only link the bridge and sickbay would be installed. Running on a separate energy grid, it would be available and easily used by only the CMO in an emergency.

(Bones liked this set up. He could stay in sickbay and keep an eye on the runts while knowing that Jim would be only a beam up away. 

Jim did not. He argued that the transporter was a security risk at best and an active hazard at worst. The Enterprise couldn’t afford to spend more money on installing a superfluous transporter after just being built from the bottom up again. Blah blah blah.) 

The second would have Bones cycling between sickbay and the bridge. He’d be on the bridge for half of alpha shift and gamma shift, and then be in sickbay for the other halves. M’Benga and other personnel would cycle between who would be on the bridge when he wouldn’t be. If a situation or emergency occurs or seems likely to occur, Bones would stay on the bridge for the entirety of the shift. 

(Bones felt that this was a waste of his time. Left him useless and probably always in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Jim loved it because he would probably have Spock (or whoever his first officer would end up being) move shifts around so he and Bones would be on the same one. Which, if they were eighteen and working at a coffee shop to pay for college, would be adorable and wonderful for their friendship and emotions. 

They aren’t in a romcom, though, and Bones would prefer to do his job efficiently and effectively.) 

The compromise stretches the rules a little bit, but it works in theory and will work best in practice, they think. 

Jim will put aside any extra money in the budget to eventually go to Scotty to discreetly build the sickbay-bridge transporter from scratch. Bones, for the couple of months it will take for the money to gather, will follow a more flexible version of set up number two where he can cycle between the two positions as needed, instead of cutting shifts into strict halves. 

(Bones calls it playing the system. Jim calls it utilizing the system for the betterment of everyone.) 

Regardless of Bones’ personal feelings on the matter, he goes to the bridge for his first official shift on the Enterprise. 

Jim’s enthusiasm greets him, and even as he scoffs, he can’t help but be a little enamored with the pure excitement in the blonde’s demeanor. 

He thinks that maybe the kiss didn’t matter in the long run because this is the important shit. Seeing Jim prepare for take off with a smile that could light up entire planets matters more than a peck that could mean something or nothing or everything. If it matters, Jim will bring it up and they’ll confront it then, if it doesn’t, things will continue like they did. 

If kissing is part of who they are, then Bones can accept it. As long as he’s around to see Jim change galaxies, then the little stuff won’t matter. 

(That doesn’t necessarily stop him from wanting to scream when Spock shows up late and Jim’s happiness only seems to grow. Petty envy is, almost definitely, part of the ‘little stuff’ that should slide down his back. 

Baby steps, he reckons, are better than nothing.) 

* * * * * 

Jim wasn’t kidding when he said they’d be stuck with milk-run missions for a while. 

Transporting materials while showing off for the Federation planet bores everyone to tears. The most that sickbay encounters boils down to burns from engineering and the occasional bout of flu. 

Jim keeps spirits high. He tosses out game ideas, leftover from the era of long car rides, and the bridge crew is forced to participate in more “ice-breaker” topics than anyone knew existed. 

“Most embarrassing moment at the academy. I want to hear them all,” Jim grins impishly, leaning forward in his chair. His elbows rest on his knees and his chin in his palms. “Who’s first?” 

“No way, Captain,” Sulu laughs. He’s usually the best sport out of all of them when Jim gets into these moods. “You already have too much power over us plebes.” 

Jim snorts. “Would it make you feel better if I went first?” 

“Nothing leaves this room?” Uhura clarifies from her seat. She spins around twice before digging her heels into the ground to face the center of the bridge. 

“Of course not! This is just for us to bond. Have to be a well-oiled machine, after all.” 

Bones snorts from his area. Jim (oh so kindly) had a tiny stool brought up for him. His butt slides off when he stop paying complete attention to maintaining balance. “You just want to gossip.” 

“Who doesn’t? Other than Mr. Spock, of course,” Jim tacks on demurely. Spock stays motionless at his console, either oblivious or apathetic to Jim’s sultry tone. “Shall I begin?” 

Sulu waves, vaguely consenting. 

Jim’s storytelling, while not the best, has enough arm flailing and dramatic pauses to keep most people mildly interested. 

(The little flick of his fingers betrays what story he decided to tell. Bones settles back with a PADD. Familiar with the tale, he listens and works simultaneously, filling the gaps he misses in with his own knowledge of the event.) 

“Now once, when I was a young first year cadet, I had this habit of not really looking where I'm going. For the most part, it ended in a couple of bruises, maybe a scrape or five. 

"So long story short, I end up tripping and falling down that long flight of stairs in front of the mess hall. Now, that in and of itself wouldn't have been that bad if someone had been around to give me a helping hand. 

"No, what made it bad is that this happened in the middle of the night. It's probably about three in the morning and I'm lying on the bottom stair with a twisted ankle and a wrist that hurts like hell. 

"I start crawling to get to my bag with my communicator in it to call Bones, because by this point he knows how to patch me up with the bare minimum so I don’t have to go to the clinic and have it on my record. That’s when Pike finds me.

"I'm not supposed to be out at three a.m. No one is because of curfew and all that. And Pike was looking for any reason to take me down a peg or two, so I couldn't ask him to take me to the clinic because he'll think I got in a fight. Even if he did believe me, that I just fell asleep in the cafe, it'll go on my record, which I didn't want to have so early on. 

"He drags me up to my feet and asks what I'm doing out- And just my luck that he grabs the wrist that I fell on and that I inadvertently put all of my weight on my bad foot. 

"I start crying. Ridiculous amount of tears, I kid you not. And he starts panicking. Saying crap like, ‘Jesus Christ, Jim, what’s with the waterworks?’ ‘Is your mom sick or something?’ ‘Stop crying, fuck-‘ 

"So I try to explain that it’s physical pain, not horrible gut-wrenching emotional ‘oh no grandma’s ill once more’, but I'm half sobbing and I can guarantee I sound ridiculous. 

“He's holding me up by my shoulders and, like a true gentleman, pulls out a handkerchief. I kid you not, it was a handkerchief. All Victorian-era grace and style. Pike’s classy, have to give the bastard that much. 

"He lets me wipe my eyes and calm down a bit. At this point, I'm leaning completely on him, we're face-to-face, I can't stop hiccupping, and now, out of the blue, my eyes and nose are starting to get itchy as I take the handkerchief away from my face. 

"Turns out I'm allergic to Pike's cologne. So right as I'm about to explain to him why I'm bawling, I sneeze. 

"Not a little cute 'achoo!' Kind of sneeze. Nah, this is a sneeze with enough snot to glue a house together. And all of it—the green snot, the spittle, all of it—goes right into his face. It gets in his mouth, his eyes, his nose- it gets everywhere. I don’t think I have words to describe how gross it was. 

"We end up at the clinic once he realizes I can barely breathe. Him, face covered in gross mucus, carrying me, still sneezing and wheezing and bawling, into the ER like a snot-covered knight, and I kid you not, the receptionist looks at us, sighs, and yells, 'Another snotty one! We need a mop!’" 

There’s scattered laughter, either from true humor or to give Jim some pity chuckles. Jim leans back in his chair and sighs wistfully. 

"We never talked about it. On my record, the incident is marked as an accident, so I guess he figured out what happened before he got there and I slobbered over him." 

Bones doesn't laugh, because he remembers how mortified Jim was when Bones was treating him and in the ensuing week after. He doesn't laugh because sometimes Jim’s delicate immune system scares Bones more than he cares to admit. 

(He doesn't hold it against them that they laugh. They don't know Jim, and while their ignorance angers him on Jim's behalf, it pleases his Id.) 

A collective sigh of relief fills the room when an alert rings before anyone else has to share. 

Jim switches from reminiscent to authoritative like a light switch. "Report." 

"There's a shuttle in our range sending out a distress signal," Uhura's voice, clipped and certain, answers first. "Unknown origins, but seems to be salvaged from an older Federation one. Not a single vessel in sight which it could have come from." 

Jim’s posture straightens. “Armed?” 

“Probably not. Shuttles of this size are more for speedy escapes than continued fighting so any ammunition would be unneeded weight. And with this being a patchwork job? I doubt they’d have anything to spare for fighting.” 

Bones holds his breath. The bridge, tense with its first “real” encounter and the possibilities of it, waits for Jim’s orders. 

"Contact them. Let's get some answers. Tell Scotty to be ready for potential beam-ups.” 

The feed is fuzzy when it comes through. 

As if he had been in the same situation thousands of times before, Jim says, “This is Captain James Kirk of the USS Enterprise. We convey greetings. Reply and identify yourself.” 

When he receives no answer for ten, then fifteen seconds, he repeats himself. 

Sharing uneasy glances behind their captain, everyone fidgets in their seats. 

Static and a bit of a metallic screech before a young voice calls out, “Hello? Is anyone there? I need help-“ 

Jim, startled, jumps up when there’s dead silence. “Hello? Hi, who is this? Can you tell us who you are? My name’s Jim.” 

“Jim?” 

“Yes, that’s me. Can you tell me your name, buddy?” 

“It’s-“ The feed shorts out briefly and Bones feels his gut clench in fear. “Charlie. I’m Charlie.” 

Jim nods and steps closer to the vid screen. “It’s nice to meet you, Charlie. Is there anyone else in your ship with you?” 

“No. Just me.” 

“How did you get in the shuttle, Charlie?” 

“I built it, Jim.” 

Jim lets out a whistle. “That’s impressive! I don’t think I know anyone who could build a shuttle by himself, and I know a ton of builders.” 

“I had some help with math and stuff, but I did it alone.” 

Bones frowns. Most kids, when they do anything by themselves (let alone build a shuttle, jesus, is he for real?) sound proud. Charlie states it as a fact. As if everything is done alone and with no help whatsoever all the time. His voice hasn’t matured, so he must be younger than a teenager at least. 

(That pride shouldn’t be gone, not yet.) 

Chekov and Sulu type away on their computers, murmuring about coordinates and how many decimal points to round to, until Jim shushes them. 

“That’s a really great accomplishment Charlie. But I’d like to ask you a favor.” 

“What?” The response, harsh and defensive, sounds louder than past communication. 

“Is it okay if we beam you aboard? Being in a shuttle alone isn’t fun, is it? I think we’d all like to meet you.” 

“All?” 

“Yep! All of us.” 

“Who is ‘us’?” 

Jim chuckles, a little nervously. “Why, the crew of course. There’s me, the captain- Doctor McCoy, the chief medical officer. On the bridge we also have Lieutenant Uhura, Lieutenant Sulu, Ensign Chekov, and Commander Spock. And that’s just one room of the Enterprise!” 

Abruptly, they gain a perfectly clear picture. A brown-haired, cherub-faced kid sits at the old-fashioned steering wheel. Empty wrappers and bits of machinery lie abandoned on the floor around him. 

“That’s so many people. What if they don’t like me?” 

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem. You’ll be very welcome over here, Charlie.” 

“I guess that’d be okay, Jim. I’ve been alone for awhile now.” 

Jim smiles brightly, and the kid responds in kind. “I think we can fix that. Lieutenant Uhura, send coordinates and orders to Mr. Scott to beam Charlie up immediately-“ 

“Will you be there when I arrive, Jim?” Charlie interrupts. 

“I’ll be there in just a moment-“ 

“I don’t want to beam up until I’m sure you’ll be there when I’m there.” 

Jim’s eyes soften from their captain glare. “That can be arranged. I’ll leave right now. Will you stay on the line with Ms. Uhura until I get there so we can bring you over?” 

Charlie nods. 

“I’ll be in the transporter room. Bones, you’re with me. Uhura, send Scotty the coordinates, I’ll tell him when.” Jim turns a bright smile to Charlie. “Can’t wait to meet you in person, Charlie.” 

Jim turns and leaves. 

Bones glances at the feed before doing the same. 

(A shiver rolls up his spine when he thinks about the bland smile and cold eyes he glimpsed.)


	5. Charlie and Chapel churn Leonard's stomach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie boards the Enterprise and latches onto Jim. Jim frets, and for the first time since pre-academy life, Bones' focus is not entirely on Jim. 
> 
> With change on the horizon, Jim and Bones should be focusing on things other than a bizarre kid and ethics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! As always, thanks for reading, commenting, kudos-ing, bookmarking, and everything else you do! You all rock and I appreciate your patience in waiting for me to update. Life's pretty good for right now and I'm glad to finally get this out! Editing was flimsy this time, sorry about that, and as always, feel free to send me enraged comments correcting anything I messed up on. 
> 
> Hope you all have a great weekend and I'll talk to you at the beginning of the next chapter sometime in the (hopefully near-ish) future!

Jim talks rapidly on their way to the transporter room. 

“He can’t be older than twelve, right? He isn’t responding normally. And did you see how much he talked about being alone? He could have been abandoned, but it can’t have been recent or else he’d be much more emotional- Fuck, he could have been in there for months with how much debris was on the ground-“ 

Bones cuts him off before he can spiral further. “We’ll talk about this later, Jim. Right now we need to focus on Charlie’s well being. I’ll do a physical and mental evaluation and hopefully that’ll answer at least some of your questions. We need him to be comfortable with us, yeah? So don’t go in there freaking out. Kids can sense that crap.” 

Jim nods, briefly pats Bones’ shoulder, and steps into the transporter room with his shoulders squared. 

“Beam him up, Scotty! Let’s bring the average age of the crew down just a bit lower, just to fuck with the public even more.” 

“It’s not the lad’s fault that everyone on this ship is barely out of diapers, Captain,” Scotty chuckles, flipping switches as needed. 

After the transporter beam finishes its duty, even Bones (with no paternal instincts whatsoever to speak of) can’t restrain his flinch at the boy’s state. 

Charlie, a short, skeletal-skinny boy wearing dirty rags, radiates awe when he steps off of the platform. He’s pigeon toed, an anomaly usually fixed by a quick, painless surgery as a toddler once the child starts walking. (Bones can fix that relatively easy, although the recovery time may be a little longer than it would be for a younger kid. He’ll wait and see what Charlie’s personality is like, because the last thing Jim needs right now is a kid sneaking out of sickbay and getting underfoot while on crutches. If he’s relatively obedient, he’ll probably risk it since they don’t know who his guardians are and healthcare in space is free. If Charlie isn’t a Federation native, medical procedures could get expensive quickly depending on how much needs to be done.) 

He stands, awkward and slightly gangly, in the in-between stage of childhood and puberty. Still a kid, but close to the precipice of a crackling voice and embarrassing bodily functions. 

Jim, ever observant, steps forward slowly and carefully kneels so he and Charlie can be at eye level. He presses a hand on his shoulder and grips it warmly. “It’s good to have you aboard, Charlie. Welcome to the Enterprise, and-“ He cuts off when Charlie doesn’t stop staring at his hand. 

(Eyes, eerily pale, staring at Jim’s hand like it’s the most alien thing he’s seen in his entire life, gaping, and Bones can’t help but feel a twinge of discomfort and uncertainty.) 

Jim lets go, gets as far as saying, “I’m sorry, was that-?” before Charlie keens, scrambling for Jim’s hand and pressing it back onto his shoulder roughly. 

“No no no, it’s- I didn’t know we could do this, I mean, I had memories but I never knew- Don’t stop, please, I’ve never-“ His nails dig into the back of Jim’s hand, and Bones tenses when he sees a trickle of blood roll off of Jim’s wrist. 

(Jim doesn’t flinch, and for a moment Bones forgets that most people do when faced with even a little bit of pain. Jim’s pain tolerance has been engraved into his mind that had he seen Jim cringe due to pain he’d probably be frightened and panicky.) 

Concerned, bright blue eyes trail over Charlie’s form, taking in every centimeter. “Charlie, how long were you in that shuttle?” 

Distracted by pressing his fingers against Jim’s, stroking, caressing (coveting, Jocelyn whispers) with intensity only children can have, he murmurs, “I don’t know. A couple months I guess.” 

“And where did you come from? Before you were in the shuttle?” 

“Thasus. And before that, a ship. But it crashed on Thasus, and I stayed there. Until now, at least.” He smiles. “Now I’m here.” 

Scotty and Bones exchange glances as Jim moves his second hand to run through Charlie’s hair. Charlie sucks in a breath before ducking his head and leaning against Jim’s hands. 

“Now Leonard, I may not be good with kids, but that doesn’t seem quite right,” Scotty mutters quietly. 

“No,” Bones replies. His mouth lowers into a perturbed frown, mirroring the one on Scotty’s face. “That’s not quite right at all. “ 

Jim clears his throat and stands up, keeping his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie still grips it there, and seems to be distressed by not having Jim’s eyes on him anymore, judging by the watery eyes and little hiccups in his chest. 

“Charlie, these are two of my good friends. This is Mr. Scott, the Enterprise’s engineer. And this is Dr. McCoy, in the blue. Would it be okay if our good doctor gives you a check up?” 

“Will you be there?” 

Jim’s eyes dart to Bones, asking permission. (Freely given, of course, the damn kid’s the fucking captain-) “If you want me to be, then yes.” His strained voice finally lets the words out, and Charlie relaxes. 

(Already, Bones can tell the chances of this ending without tears have diminished drastically.) 

In tune, as always, Bones steps in while Jim leans to whisper to Scotty. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Charlie,” He follows Jim’s example and crouches down so their eyes can meet. “Can you remember the last time you had a doctor’s appointment?” 

Charlie doesn’t release Jim’s hand, but he seems to brighten up at having another person’s eyes on him. (And only on him). 

“No. Not since before I was on Thasus, at least.” 

“Then you are long overdue, pal. Let’s fix that, yeah? If you don’t fidget too much, I’ll teach you how to use a tricorder to check Jim’s vitals.” He winks, and Charlie blinks back with confusion. “It’s exhausting watching Jim myself, so I could use some help keeping an eye on him.” 

(The lie rolls off of his tongue easily. Keeping a kid happy isn’t too hard. Jocelyn should have given him some more credit.) 

Charlie bounces after the two officers happily and eagerly enough after that. He stares at those they pass, awed. One hand clutches Jim’s, fiendishly tight, but the other brushes against passersby, pulling it back suddenly with a squeal if the victim caught him in the act. 

Most rush by without a second thought, but a couple souls with little ones at home wave, or make a face, or smile, right before they rush to wherever they need to be. Jim stares after them for just a moment, as if committing their faces to his memory. 

The brand-spanking-new sickbay remains relatively untouched. Charlie seems less interested by the white walls and biobeds than the nurses relaxing and chatting. 

He tugs on Jim’s hand until Jim crouches down enough for Charlie to whisper straight into his ear. 

“What are they talking about?” 

Jim, bemusedly amused, tugs Charlie along gently. “Let’s find out. Nurse Chapel, is it?” His voice rises to a conversational tone. “Our guest here is curious. What were you talking about that had all of you so engrossed?” 

As far as Bones knows, Chapel and Jim have yet to speak face-to-face. Bones has sung her praises high and low, but Jim, try as he might to be unbiased, critiques those that were not originally on the Enterprise during the Narada incident more harshly than strictly necessarily. He expects Jim minds the trip to the medical domain less than he would admit, as it provides him with the opportunity to double-check Bones’ choices to bring aboard. 

(He doesn’t take it personally. Jim has fallen into the role of over-protective captain as if he was born for it. Once he sees that Bones picked the best of the best, he’ll calm down and add them to his ever-growing heart.) 

Chapel, one of the few aboard to ditch the modern, stylish skant for pants and a blue tunic, smiles demurely. “Oh captain, I doubt that any of you want to hear what we’re gossiping about. Harmless, I assure you, but bland as all else. Can we help you with anything?” 

Jim, reluctant, grins and gives her the win for decent-enough deflection. “We have a boy here who needs the best check-up the Enterprise can provide. Now I’ll be here with him to keep an eye on everything, but I expect everyone on their best behaviors, of course.” He winks at Charlie, who giggles. 

The kid must be completely enamored by Jim’s “big tough captain” routine, if the way he trots after him and clings to his hand says anything at all. 

Bones picks Charlie up from behind to help him onto a bed, only jumping a bit when he shrieks. A little bit of laughter, a little bit of surprise, and a tinge of fear. He has to steady his hands when pain shoots through them suddenly so he doesn’t drop the kid. He deposits him on the biobed before turning around for a second to shake his hands out. 

He hisses in a breath. (A mistake, not even made out of pain so much as surprise and uncertainty about where it had come from.)

Jim’s eyes snap to him, hands snapping to hold Bones’. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, fine, fine. Just picked Charlie up at a weird angle, I guess-“ 

“Jim! Jim, what does this do?” 

“Ooh, don’t touch that-!” Jim pushes a mobile tray holding hyposprays away from Charlie. “That’s a ‘doctor-only’ sort of thing, Charlie. Why don’t you ask Bones about it? He can explain what each one does.” 

“No, that’s okay.” Charlie’s eyes dart to Bones before resting on Jim again. “Can you tell me what being a captain is like, Jim?” 

Bones pulls out his tricorder, motions for Chapel to join him and act as his scribe for the visit, and goes through the motions. 

“Well, it’s busy, for one thing. A lot of paperwork, I’m afraid, so nothing too glamorous as of now. Your arrival is the most exciting thing to happen to us in weeks, in fact.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah! It’s pretty cool, actually. The bridge crew has been itching to see someone new, so after we get you settled in for the night I’ll have to bring you up there to meet everyone.” 

“Settled in?” 

“There are plenty of guest quarters. Hypothetically, they’re for when we’ll transport ambassadors and other important officials, but when they’re unoccupied we can use them as we see fit. We’ll get you set up with a nice one, that’s close to a rec room so you can keep yourself entertained while you’re here.” 

“You make it sound as if I won’t be staying here very long.” 

“We hope to be able to find some of your family members for you to have a permanent residence with. If not, then we’ll discuss other options.” 

“I don’t think I have any family.” 

“What makes you say that?” 

“I didn’t have any back on Thasus.” 

“Can you walk me through a day on Thasus? Tell me what a normal day for you was when you were there.” 

“I don’t want to. I’d rather hear about what it’s like living on a starship. Are there always so many girls around? There weren’t any on Thasus.” 

“There’s more women on this ship than any other gender, in fact.” 

“Whoa. I think the last girl I saw before was my mom.” 

“Mm? And when-?” 

“Why is the bed making noise? Are they supposed to do that?” 

“These ones are, don’t-“ 

“I don’t like it. It’s too loud-“ 

“It’s necessary, kid-“ 

For five seconds, Bones continues with his examination before he hears the loud, pointed silence. Looking up from his tricorder, he has to distance himself from the readings before he realizes that the entire sickbay is silent. The constant hum of energy and vitality disappeared, leaving an oppressive silence. The biobeds, usually finicky at best and alerting nurses every five seconds that there are no patients underneath their covers, release no piercing wails, no muted beeping to indicate a heartbeat or lack of one. 

“What the hell-?” If he doesn’t focus enough, even the confused murmurs of the other med staff fade into nothing. Even as their mouths move, he strains his ears to hear anything any staff member says. He raises perturbed eyes to meet Jim’s, which seem equally bewildered. 

Chapel’s eyes, dark yet alight with excitement, stares at Charlie. Analytical and observant, she tracks every movement of the eerie child. 

(Bones wonders if she even recorded any of the numbers and ratios he was barking at her. With Chapel, it’s a fifty-fifty shot if she’ll do her duty and what interests her or just what she deems worthy of her attention. Her intelligence only just surpasses her eager, hungry impulsivity.) 

“Charlie, may I ask if you have an explanation for this phenomenon?” Chapel asks. Her smile, gentle and hiding her razor-sharp teeth. “It’s really quite remarkable, being able to make everything quiet like that.” 

Charlie scoffs. “It was too loud. I just made it stop.” 

(And that is how you can tell the difference between an adult and a kid. An adult would struggle with the inevitable “should I?” doubts. A kid has a solution and uses it, regardless of what it will set in motion, regardless of consequences.) 

* * * * * 

The check-up proceeds normally after that excepting the tension Charlie’s actions proved. Chapel opened her mouth multiple times to ask all sorts of invasive questions. Bones had to reprimand her when Charlie’s mood started souring and Jim seemed torn between telling her off himself and allowing her to continue in order to gain more information about a potential threat. 

(He can read it on Jim’s face. His guilt over suspecting a child tempered by his self-imposed vow to protect his crew straightens his spine and adds a calculating shine to his eyes.) 

Jim, as promised, takes Charlie to choose a room. Emphasis on “choose”, as Charlie responds to orders negatively. 

Bones now owns a broken biobed as proof of that particular disinclination. 

He coms Scotty as soon as Jim and the boy leave, asking for a quick fix. Scotty promises to send an ensign up with a toolbox and a code to “fix” sickbay’s replicator.

(He sure as hell isn’t complaining that the man wants to install Romulan Ale into the replicator program. Might taste even worse than the actual stuff, but the unquantifiable alcoholic content will be useful sooner or later.) 

His jaw twitches when Chapel taps on his shoulder. She’s not one for kind words or kind touches, yet remains one of the more tactile members of the medical staff. He wonders if she does it to annoy him in particular or just everyone. 

“McCoy.” 

“Chapel.” 

“ We need to get that kid back here.” 

“Oh really?” He spins away from the com screen to meet her eyes. “And why’s that?” 

“Well, ignoring the fact that he is a danger to everyone on the ship seeing as he’s a child with enough power to break a biobed without lifting a finger,” Her tone, caustic and blatantly insubordinate, makes him grit his teeth together. “Did you see his brain scans? McCoy, I don’t even think Spock’s green brain could match up to how active his is. He’s using areas of the brain we don’t even know how to classify with no side effects whatsoever, and if we could get Spock to meld with him and see what’s up there to make him get like that-

“Look, I’m going to stop you now before I get really mad and do something stupid like blow you out the airlock,” Bones snarls. “He’s a kid. Ethically speaking, we can’t do anything without his guardian’s consent. Seeing as he doesn’t have a guardian, we do what we can to diagnose any problems he may have and keep him alive. That’s it. You finished fucking first in your division and you’re telling me you don’t remember that much?” 

Chapel snorts and leans her hips against the broken bed. “Please, you can stop the high-and-mighty bull, Len. It’s not like that in the black. Things are more lax out here. You might be new to this, but I sure as hell am not. Take my advice-“ 

“No, Chapel, I don’t think I will. Not when it involves a fucking kid.” 

“He’s basically a teenager! He’s closer to Chekov’s age than not-“ 

“And may I remind you that Chekov’s guardian, as he is still underage, is technically Starfleet, which in turn gives us blanket permission. Not the fact that he’s almost an adult. Until he turns eighteen, we have to fill out extra paperwork for exactly that reason!” He shoves a wheeling table out of his way as he storms to his office. “The kid’s, physically, maybe twelve. Maybe eleven. We are not experimenting on him, and we are definitely NOT allowing Spock to mind-rape that boy.” 

Chapel jaw clenches, and so does Bones’ in a strange, mirrored action. She takes a breath before letting the words roll off of her tongue, melodic intonation grating against the intent behind the words. 

“You are so much softer than I thought you would be. I’m disappointed.” 

(And she couldn’t know how close that hit home, how closely the words reflected the memories he locked away in a vault in Georgia, but they still hurt more than they should.) 

“Consent is everything. And a child cannot give informed consent to anything more invasive than asking what his or her favorite flavor of gum is. As medical professionals, we respect that. Got it?” He snaps. His words crackle between them, and he can see her retreat. 

She doesn’t respond. He doesn’t expect her to. 

(Her boots click against the floor. He adds a note on his personal PADD to observe how she responds in situations in the upcoming month. 

It’s not too late to drop her. But he knows how good she is at what she does, and he’d rather not have anything less than the best on their starship.)


End file.
